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His eyes open, and he knows who he is.It’s just another day, and his name is Jemma Evans.He looks around the room, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, still slightly uncoordinated. There's a sound that is slowly coming to the foreground of his mind.Oh, his alarm is going off. He rolls over and slaps at the phone until the dreadful sound ends. Why on earth did he ever choose such a disruptive alarm sound? Obviously so he would actually wake up, but still.He sits up, thoughts filtering into his head slowly as he remembers his plans for the day and why he’s up before the sun even is.Right, school. That’s important.Making quick work of getting dressed, he throws on some of his baggiest clothes, not feeling up for much else. He looks in the mirror and sighs, the clothes hide some, but not much of his figure. ‘Whatever,’ he thinks and brushes his teeth before heading to pack his lunch. Half a bagel and a bottle of water.He peeks his head through the door of his parents room. His mom, Jackie, is already gone for work. Beside his passed out dad, an empty beer bottle lays on its side. Typical.He grabs his keys and is out the door, on his way to school.___He gets to class and sits down, waiting for the bell to ring. First period is AP English, one of his favorite subjects. His English teachers have commented on his writing skill in the past, and each has taken a liking to him - a fact he doesn't gloat about, but certainly doesn't fail to make him proud of himself.The class starts to roll in while Sam gets out the materials he’ll need for the class. Distracted, he doesn’t notice the brown-haired boy with blue eyes and a mischievous grin sneaking up behind him.“Morning, sunshine!” He whispers directly in Sam’s ear, grabbing his shoulders.The breath and nickname send a shiver down his spine and he turns around quickly, “James, you ass, I told you not to do that! And don’t call me sunshine,” Sam replies, slapping at James’ arm.“Sorry Jemma, but I just can’t help it! You’re the light of my life, my sunshine!” James says, clutching his hands by his heart and swooning theatrically.“Yeah yeah, stow it with the cheesy crap,” Sam says, rolling his eyes and turning back to face the front of the room. James sits down beside him and pulls his stuff from his backpack too.“C’mon babe, I’m just messing with you. Besides, I don’t know why you hate the name so much.”“I dunno, just don’t,” Sam murmurs. James is about to respond, but the bell rings for class to begin and the teacher stands up to begin the lesson.___Next period begins and ends with a sigh, math being something he has always struggled at, regardless of his effort to understand it. He writes down the homework assignment and heads to his next class, feeling slightly rejuvenated now that the dreaded class has ended.His next period, AP Government and Politics, has to be his favorite class of all time. It combines his love of writing, critical thinking, debating, and law. He’s doing great in there, too, and it certainly looks good on his transcript for when college applications come around.He wants to be a lawyer, regardless of what people have told him. As he’s grown up, he’s been witness to the corruption in government and the way that it functions irregardless of its own rules. This, and the amount of evil he’s seen in the world have always compelled him to try to change things.A desire to right wrongs and help as many people as he can. A lawyer is the best way he can think to accomplish this. He’d never want to be a cop, he’s disgusted at the idea, but studying has always been a passion of his - especially when he enjoys the topic - and he thinks that he has the determination to see it through. To help people, one case at a time. To ensure that their rights are protected, and make sure people can’t get away with hurting anyone.‘Yeah’, he thinks, ‘I’ll be a lawyer.’Before he knows it, the class ends. He doesn’t have a third period, being a senior, so he heads to work. He works as a stocker at a local grocery store, and enjoys his job. It’s a mindless one, full of tasks that keep his hands moving but that don’t require deep thought, meaning that he can let his mind wander as he does it.A ringing sounds throughout the small store, a telltale sign that a customer has walked in. He glances up instinctually, and meets James’ eyes.James, his boyfriend of 3 years and childhood friend, has been the only one who ever really got him. It was hard for him to connect with people besides a surface level acquaintanceship, and Sam always being seen as a weirdo or the odd one out meant that no one ever really made the effort to try to get to know him more than that.James had, though, and it meant the world to him. He had seen him through various struggles, and Sam had done the same. James was like him, with a rough home life and that just wanted to get out and *be* something. Something more than the weirdo with no friends. Someone who could make a change.James wanted to be a writer, something Sam admired given his own interest in writing, but his own works paled in comparison to James’. He had plans for his life after school, Sam and him had come up with them one night at a middle school sleepover, and then expanded on as they began to better understand the world. His creativity was always something that inspired a sense of pride and interest in him, and he wanted to see James succeed in his dreams.He loved James, but there was always something off about it. It seemed obvious when James asked him out - of course the guy and girl who grew up as childhood friends with no one but each other would fall for each other, so he’d said yes. After all, he loved James, so it wasn’t unrequited. But little things bothered him.He wasn’t comfortable with kissing James, to be honest, and while he would go along with it or even initiate it to keep up the appearance, he never enjoyed it. He would always stop things before they got heated. James had understood, but lately it seemed like he was bothered more and more by it.Sam knew that, and felt bad, but he just didn’t really want to do anything further. Even making out made him uncomfortable, he couldn’t even fathom how he would feel if they had sex. He had at least gotten James to stop nagging him about that one by claiming he was going to wait for marriage.However, them both being 18 now meant that the opportunity would be closer and closer. He and James knew they wanted to stay together, they’d always been together and dating just meant they were closer. There were never any issues when it came to infidelity and they enjoyed each other’s company. This didn’t stop a feeling of dread from rising in Sam’s gut, though, when the idea of them marrying soon came up.Given that James was a guy, he figured James would take it as his job to propose, which meant he wouldn’t know when it would be. This stress meant tensions had been rising between them lately, subtly but surely. He loved James, but he did not want to marry him, given what it would mean. He was even toying with the idea of breaking up with him to prevent it, even though he hated himself for even considering it.There were too many problems that were popping up, and too many things Sam hadn’t told James for them to work out. He wasn’t even sure how James would take the information if he told him, so for now he just let it fester, the anxiety eating at him.“Hey sweetheart!” James called, waving to Sam. James had made a habit of coming in for a few minutes during Sam’s shift before he headed off to work after his own classes ended - not being as lucky as Sam with his full school day.“Hey,” Sam replied, walking over to meet him. They talk for a few, making plans to catch a movie soon before James has to leave.___After finishing his shift, Sam heads home, tired from his busy day. He kicks off his shoes and places them in the basket, before walking into the living room. There he finds his dad, passed out once again with a bottle, socks kicked off into the floor in front of him and dishes that he had clearly just used sitting on the table beside him.Sam knows his dad’ll complain of a hurt back and of not sleeping through the night if he sleeps now, so he shakes his shoulder to wake him up.“Dad, cmon wake up. It’s too early to sleep and you shouldn’t sleep on the couch.”His dad groans in response, sitting up begrudgingly, clearly unhappy about being woken up. He takes in his surroundings, then barks at Sam.“This place is a mess, why haven’t you cleaned it up yet? You know your mother ain’t home much. Go do those dishes and clean up this floor,” he commands, gesturing to the room before heading off to his room.“I had a good day, thanks for asking,” Sam mumbles under his breath, collecting the dishes off the table and the socks from the floor. Tossing the socks in the laundry, he starts on the dishes.“Dunno why he always complains about the mess when he’s the only one around to make it.” He wipes his hands off on his pants and heads upstairs. He gets ready for bed, then turns on the TV to some mindless cop show and drifts off.